


Picking Favorites

by ObscureReference



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Dirt - Freeform, Dolls, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 03:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: It was odd, sometimes, the things Keaton chose to love the most.





	Picking Favorites

**Author's Note:**

> *Sweats* This was supposed to be a super short thing and then this happened. It turns out I actually love Keaton/Laslow? Who knew.
> 
> I'm almost posting this while super sleepy, so pardon any mistakes I've made. Also Keaton is just as kinda gross here as he is in canon, and he canonically hunts animals by himself and eats humans and stuff, so. Take that how you will. I don't feel like anything here is much worse than canon, but this is hard to tag, so. Keaton is a dirty guy and lowkey gross but Laslow doesn't really mind.

It was odd, sometimes, the things Keaton chose to love the most.

Laslow stumbled upon the doll while on his morning stroll. It was damp with rain. Old, musty, cloth wearing thin in more places than it wasn’t. A nearby bush had actually begun growing _into_ the little doll. It had long since been abandoned.

It was the kind of thing Laslow wouldn’t have spared a second look at before. Now, he paused in his morning stroll to give it a once over and then called for Keaton.

Ever since Keaton had begun joining Laslow on his strolls, he had a tendency to wander far and wide. Laslow had gone looking for him afterwards more than once to guide him back to camp after he’d gotten lost. But Keaton always came when he called, and ever since Laslow had figured that out, things had been much smoother.

“Keaton!”

Laslow braced himself before the leaves even began the rustle, but it was only a split second later that Keaton was barreling into him at top speed. Laslow still toppled ass over teakettle when Keaton slammed into him with the power only a wolfskin could muster, but at least Laslow knew what to expect at this point. He didn't scream the way he had the first few times. 

Keaton had wrapped his arms around Laslow as they fell, burying Laslow’s face in his chest, so it was Keaton’s arms rather than Laslow’s neck that took the brunt of the fall as they toppled over one another, rolling in the dirt until they finally came to a stop, limbs tangled up in one another’s space. Laslow’s back felt cold and wet from the ground. He groaned.

“Laslow!” Keaton licked a wet stripe along Laslow’s cheek. His tongue was hot and his breath smelled vaguely of dead things. “What’s up?”

He began sniffing along Laslow’s collarbone, checking for whatever it was he liked to smell. Laslow would have to ask him what it was some day.

He looked over Keaton’s shoulder, pointedly ignoring whatever wet, red thing was on Keaton’s chin and stared at the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves above their heads instead. “You don’t have to do that every time, you know.”

He knew Keaton would anyway. There hadn’t been a day in the past few months that Laslow called for Keaton and didn’t find himself enthusiastically tackled to the floor. He was used to it at this point, even if his sore limbs sometimes protested.

At least things had gotten better since Keaton had learned to land softer.

As expected, Keaton laughed. “Aw, man! You’re such a kidder!”

True to his point, Laslow couldn’t deny he was smiling. When Keaton stood up, he took the hand that was offered to him and ignored the stickiness of Keaton’s fingers.

“I think I found something you’d like,” Laslow said. Hopefully. Garbage was usually a safe bet, but he knew he didn’t have Keaton’s tastes entirely down pat yet. He gestured to the doll in the brush. “There.”

Keaton spotted it immediately. He was keen like that. He made a dive for the doll like it was the last precious gem in the world and detangled it from the bushes, tongue sticking out in concentration. As though he could somehow ruin it more than was already ruined. Laslow supposed it came back to Keaton's idea of "messing with perfection."

“Oh, wow!” Keaton cheered. “How’d you find this?” His tail was wagging a mile a minute. Laslow mentally patted himself on the back for a job well done. “It looks like a spider made a nest here once! That’s amazing!”

He was pointing to some joint near the doll’s head, but Laslow averted his eyes. As accustomed to Keaton as he’d become, bugs still made his skin crawl. He was lucky Keaton had stopped dropping centipedes in his bed after that one week of nightmares and the catastrophe in the mess hall.

“Yeah, it sure is,” Laslow said. He couldn’t have cared less, but seeing Keaton so excited made him happy as well. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Are you kidding? This is going in my collection for sure.”

Laslow blushed from the praise as Keaton turned the doll over in his hands and brought it up to his nose to sniff. Whatever he smelled, he was satisfied; the look on his face said it all.

A thought occurred to Laslow. It was something that had been nagging at him for a while, and he leaned against a tree trunk while he turned the thought over in his head.

It wasn’t that Laslow couldn’t wrap his mind around liking dust bunnies or broken pots lids or old dolls; Laslow held no love in his heart for such objects other than the reminder of Keaton he got whenever he spotted such trash, but he understood that some people (some wolfskin) had different tastes. Sometimes gross tastes. But differing tastes nonetheless.

What he really didn’t understand was what made good garbage… well, _good_.

“Say, Keaton,” he ventured when it became clear Keaton had become too invested in his new find to resume their walk for a while.

Keaton’s head swiveled to attention the way a dog’s did when its name was called. It was oddly endearing. Laslow’s smile grew.

“What do you like about your treasures?” he asked.

Keaton blinked. His ears flicked at some sound only he could hear. “What do you mean? All my treasures are awesome.”

Laslow had no doubt Keaton thought so, but that wasn’t what he meant. He nodded towards the doll in Keaton’s hands.

“Take that doll for example. Tell me how it compares to the other dolls in your collection.” Keaton hesitated, probably trying to spare Laslow’s feelings about his gross garbage, so Laslow added, “Be honest. I want to know.”

“That’s a pretty tough question. Everything in my collection is just. You know, _great_.”

“Try,” Laslow said. “For me.”

Keaton rolled his bottom lip between his teeth in thought. He absently raised the doll to his mouth and nipped at the corner of the cloth. A bit of dirt rubbed off on his lip. Then, finally, he lowered the doll and said, “Okay, I think I have it figured out.”

“Really?” Laslow shifted his weight. “Do tell.”

Keaton raised the bear as an example.

“To be honest, I already have a couple of teddy bears like this that came with better dirt and mold on them,” Keaton said. “But this one has been outside for a while, and it has that _smell_ , you know? And this texture—feel it!”

He held out the doll, and Laslow reluctantly squeezed one of the bear’s paws between the tip of his two fingers. It felt as though mud had replaced the cotton long ago. Assuming there was still any cotton left in the deflated thing. The cloth practically crackled under his touch.

“That sure is… something,” Laslow agreed. Keaton nodded like Laslow understood.

“So it has things it can improve on,” Keaton said, thankfully taking the doll back. He tucked it inside his shirt, trapping the doll between his clothes and his chest. That was a thing Keaton did for treasures that wouldn’t fit in his pockets. Laslow made a mental note to make sure Keaton didn’t drop it on their way back, as things tended to fall out of Keaton’s shirt when he got excited. “But there are things about this treasure that are better than some other treasures I have too. Everything I add to my collection has something cool like that, so everything I add is amazing. Besides, you gave it to me, so it’s valuable either way.”

Keaton added the last part like it was no big deal, but the praise made Laslow’s heart flutter. His chest felt warm, and his smile widened. He winked at Keaton.

“Oh my,” he teased. “You certainly know how to make a man feel good about himself.”

“Huh?” Keaton cocked his head. “I’m just telling the truth. You always pick out the best stuff. That’s why I picked you to be my mate.”

Laslow had begun to wipe some of the dirt from his trousers. Now he froze. The tips of his ears burned.

“What?” he croaked. It took effort to look up from the ground and at Keaton, the weight of Keaton’s words weighing down on him like a tangible thing.

Keaton stiffened. His long ears quickly went flat against his head as if he’d done something wrong. His tail froze mid-wag.

“What?” Keaton repeated, too rushed to be casual. “I didn’t say anything. Anyway, we should probably get back to camp.”

He turned hastily on his heel—the opposite direction of camp—and suddenly the sight of Keaton’s back was too much to bear. Laslow stumbled forward.

“What? No, Keaton, _stop_.”

Laslow reached for open air, too far away to make it to Keaton in time with such weak knees, but Keaton paused anyway, turning halfway back around at the sound of Laslow’s voice. His ears were still flat.

A beat passed between them as they each waited for the other to make the first move. A bird cawed overhead, but for once, Keaton’s eyes didn’t track it. He looked at Laslow.

“Well?” Keaton prompted. “Were you tryin’ to say something?”

It seemed like there was something Keaton was trying to say instead, but Laslow let it slide. He took a deep breath. He’d been in scarier situations than this.

“Did you say you picked me?” Laslow asked. _Picked_ him. As in, Laslow was first choice for something. It had been a long while since he remembered anything like that happening.

Keaton scuffed his foot in the dirt.

“Maybe I did,” he mumbled. “Hypothetically speaking, I mean. It would be stupid to actually admit that now since I haven’t even picked up the right ring yet. So. Hypothetically. Yes.”

Laslow’s heart skipped a beat.

Keaton had been looking for rings. For him.

“Okay,” Laslow said. He processed that. “Because, hypothetically speaking, if you had, I would say I would pick you too.”

Keaton instantly perked up.

“Really?” He caught himself. “Not—Not that I’m happy about that. Since this is all hypothetical.”

“Your tail is wagging,” Laslow said.

“What? No, it’s not.” It didn’t stop wagging. “You’re imagining things.”

Laslow felt his face soften. Some of his nerves were easing away. “Of course. My mistake.” Keaton shifting his weight back and forth, back and forth, so Laslow said, “You can kiss me if you want, you know. Hypothetically.”

Keaton launched himself at him, and while Laslow should have expected it, he really hadn’t.

Laslow would have fallen to the forest floor again if not for the tree trunk that caught him as he fell. His back hit the rough bark, but Keaton’s hands on the back of his head absorbed the worst of it. No matter how many times Keaton knocked him down, he was always protecting Laslow first. With that in mind, Laslow didn’t even notice how scratchy the wood at his back was at first. Not with Keaton on top of him.

Keaton kissed sloppy and wet, which Laslow _had_ expected. Not that he would ever admit to thinking about how Keaton kissed, of course. That would have been too embarrassing, especially now when Laslow was overwhelmed enough.

Cliché as it was, what Keaton lacked in skill, he made up for with enthusiasm. He pressed himself against Laslow like he wanted to open Laslow’s chest and crawl inside. Perhaps he did. His fingers tangled in Laslow’s hair, his other hand curling against his shoulder. Keaton’s kiss was mostly teeth, and he nipped at Laslow’s lips in a way that had Laslow gasping, open mouthed. Laslow could practically feel the movement of Keaton’s wagging tail as they kissed.

Laslow tried to copy the smooth, calmer kissing he’d had the rare occasion to practice, but he found himself quickly swept up in Keaton’s fast tide. It wasn’t a bad thing. The eager push-and-pull of Keaton's mouth against his own was something Laslow could definitely get used to.

When Keaton pulled away, Laslow found himself with a heart that beat a mile a minute and a vague worry that whatever red thing had stained Keaton’s chin earlier had rubbed off onto Laslow’s as well. He chose to ignore that for now and focus on the happy feeling swirling in his chest instead.

“I promise to find you the best ring ever,” Keaton said. Laslow wondered if it was his imagination or if he could really feel Keaton’s heart through all their clothing and the doll. “I’ll try to be quick about it, but it might take a few days.”

Keaton’s weight was still keeping him trapped firmly against the tree. Laslow hooked his ankle around Keaton’s.

“We could always try the local towns,” he suggested. “I’m sure there are a few shops around here that sell rings.”

Keaton frowned. “Oh. Right.”

Laslow threaded his fingers through Keaton’s hair, which seemed to very quickly improve Keaton’s mood. Laslow was not at all surprised to find Keaton’s hair a tangle of knots.

“There, there,” he said, scratching his nails against Keaton's scalp. Keaton seemed to enjoy it very much. “We’ll go together. You’ll get a ring as well. One you love just as much as I do.”

He was unsure if they would have to find some something rusty and old in order to fulfill Keaton’s standards of what could be considered a "good" ring or not, but. Well. They’d cross that bridge when they got to it.

When Keaton kissed Laslow’s cheek, he pulled back with a wet _smack!_ He was so starry eyed Laslow couldn’t bring himself to wipe the spit off his face. It was only fair; Laslow felt a little starry eyed as well.

“Wow,” Keaton said. “This is the best treasure _ever_. This one’s my favorite for sure.”

Laslow didn’t know if Keaton was talking about the teddy bear or him. He found that he didn’t mind very much either way.

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm gonna get back to FFXV eventually; I just have the FE14 bug rn.)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hmu at my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/)


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